Tone Deaf
by Dazzle-Bot
Summary: Just because they had shipped him off doesn’t mean that Shane Gray was going to be a good boy and sit tight all summer. Oh, no, he wasn’t leaving the joint until he caused a bit of ruckus, and pissed a hell of a lot of people off. Only disaster ensues...
1. Act One: Rock Heroics

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Act One: Rock Heroics

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She hopped out of the car, and was greeted with the blinding morning sunshine. She had been stuck in that car for far too long, and she shook off her stiff legs and arms, and the older woman swung the car door open to join her. The two held a very slight resemblance, one that couldn't really be easily recognized, although their surname was enough to confirm any suspicion of their relations. Heyburn isn't one of those last names you come across very often.

Almost all made that simple connection, no one really did know of what really ran through her veins.

Both of the ladies looked very pleased and relieved at the sight of the towering green pines and oaks, as well as the dark, soft soils beneath their feet that greeted them, with the air holding a faint fresh scent that was left behind from the early morning showers. The younger girl meandered around aimlessly until she found an old oak tree with some sort of odd, small engraving on it. Her fingers ran over it carefully, and she couldn't help but grin in utter joy at the sight and feel of it underneath her finger tips.

"It's here, mom!" she called out.

The older woman looked over her shoulder, and let out a breathy laugh.

"Things here haven't changed at all," she spoke softly, eyes fixated on the mark on the tree.

"Apparently not, mom," the younger lady replied, unable to suppress the amusement in her voice.

She stepped aside to let her mother get a closer look at the tree, a mark that she had left too many summers ago.

"How long has it been?" she asked in an airy tone, running her fingers across the engraving. "This camp is ancient darling, you know that?"

"It must have been," her daughter scoffed teasingly. "You and dad must have left your mark decades, even centuries" that received an instant nasty look from her mother, and she laughed, "-ago; and year after year, it never seems to disappear off the tree bark, and apparently weather can't wear away the impact of two kids who've made their marks at this very camp, either. I can't believe dad couldn't make it this year, I miss that laugh of triumph of his he always makes when he sees it."

"We were eighteen when we carved this in, you know," her mom remarked airily, "it was our last year here, we dug into the tree the night before the end of the summer, just after final jam. Oh, God, I remember how much we hated each other before that last summer; he was competition and he was a cocky little prick. Of all summers, that one was the best, because it wasn't about competition that year, it was about just being there for the music, and final jam was just about watching what we all worked so hard for. He was such a handsome daredevil that year, you know."

"He still is, mom," she interjected, laughing.

"You should have seen him when he was eighteen," her mother sighed, laughing. "I remember all the girls tripping all over themselves to get his attention that year, and the two years before. But, obviously, I was the only girl for him, and might I add, I was just as gorgeous as you are when I was in my younger years. We both grew up during the time between the last summers, and it was only until the end did we realise our feelings for the other. Am I boring you, dear?"

She shook her head, grinning madly. "Of course not, you know I love listening to this, it's like every year, except without daddy's dirty commentary. I can't believe he's not here this year! This could be potentially my last year, and he's off in Australia playing in the snow? Ridiculous."

Her mom threw an arm around her, and directed her towards the lake, the two taking their time, tumbling down the uneven path down.

"Oh, come now, Lacey, you're seventeen," her mother exclaimed, "You still have another year after this one to do your victory lap. Dad knows that you're going to be back next year, and he hopes you understand that he'd be here if he really could. Now, you want me to call dad so he can give his smug commentary, or should I just continue on?"

"A victory lap seems unnecessary, mom." She sighed. "But go on."

"Well, we spent a lot of our nights that summer sitting here on the deck, talking," she continued, sitting down on the worn out pieces of wood. "We spent all night after final jam here, we even scrawled our names in permanent marker, but it has long faded now. Neither one really wanting to leave the camp just yet, especially with so much unfinished business, but when morning came, we had to say our goodbyes. It was heart wrenching, with all the tears, and everything. It was only two years after that did we meet again, and, well, the rest is history."

"Who did win final jam that year?" she asked, seeing as they hadn't really ever mentioned it, and the question always seemed to have slipped her mind every time.

"Your dad did," her mom replied. "That was the only time I was glad that he won, because, honestly, he rocked it that year, and, well, it didn't hurt that he had been looking at me throughout the entire performance. It was terribly gushy and dreamy."

She smiled without showing her teeth, and patted Lacey's leg as the two stood up, the sun slowly rising on the tranquil horizon. The lake was exceptionally beautiful that morning, and Lacey thought it was definitely worth waking up at 3 AM for it. You can't exactly get views like this in a big town where she came from. The two silently walked back to the car, and were pleasantly surprised by the camp organizer.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm kind of new to this entire "Camp Rock" fandom, but I'm loving the concept. (:

I'm not sure if it was just me, but I was kind of left a bit disappointed with the movie, and really wanted to give it a bit of a rewrite, which ultimately led me here, ha ha ha. It just really irked me on how G-Rated it was, because quite frankly, if the most vilest thing you could verbally say to insult someone is calling them a "jerk" or a "big fat liar" doesn't really hold much of an emotional punch.

So, be prepared for some (a lot) of cussing, because that's about the only way a teenager knows how to convey their emotions and frustrations.

Sorry, but it's not a Smitchie, solely because I found that it would be far too much work to inject some well-needed backbone into Mitchie, and, honestly, I hate her name. It makes me cringe just at the sight of it, and Microsoft Word refuses to put a halt to those awful red sribbles, which can be such a bother. ):

Just consider Lacey as a new and improved (name-wise, especially) Mitchie, and bear with me! (:

I'd love to see what you all think about it so far, and I hope you enjoy it very much.

Laterx.

- QK.


	2. Act Two: Dazzling Reputations

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Act Two: Dazzling Reputations

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"Why, if it isn't Lacey Haybern and the notorious Roxanne Haybern-Kembury," he greeted warmly. "Where's that father of yours, Lace?"

They both had their chance of hugging the eccentric man.

"It's good seeing you again, Brown," she was unable to bite back her grin, hugging him tightly. "Dad's in Australia on business."

"Well, that's disappointing," he frowned. "I was looking forward to making fun of how old he is now."

The girl rolled her eyes. Brown had been a camper himself, way back when; he had been ten when her mom and father were in their last year.

"Brown, still smug I see?" her mother asked sarcastically, hugging him as well.

"I do try very hard, you see," he explained, grinning smugly.

For an adult, Brown was ridiculously immature, but was still pretty cool, his accent making him appear younger than he was. His great uncle was the founder of the camp, and he felt obligated to keep up Camp Rock's dazzling reputation.

"I'm sure that work must be keeping you busy, Roxanne, with all of the new artists and success," he brought up casually.

"Oh, only a bit," she joked, laughing. "Nothing could stop me from coming back, seeing the marks I've left in this joint, you know?"

"It's full of memories, isn't it?" he inquired, smiling. "And don't worry about your marks, every rascal that walks into this camp walks out knowing who Anna and Ben are, you two will always be legendary here, there's no doubt about that, my dear."

"You can say the same," she applauded. "Bass in the White Crows, and a Grammy under your belt, the little rascals are learning from the best, even though they were a rascal themselves when they were here, isn't that right now, Brown?"

"I'm less trouble than you portray me out to be, Anna," he scowled mockingly. "So I pushed a kid down a flight of stairs, what's the harm in that?"

"How about the hot sauce in the food? Or sabotaging someone just before Final Jam by snipping their guitar strings?" Roxanne questioned, ticking off each of the events with her fingers.

Lacey stifled out a laugh, and abruptly stopped when her camp counsellor shot her a nasty glare.

"My, it's getting late," he cunningly changed the topic. "You should get going, Roxanne, the children will surely trample you once they find out that you're here."

"But-" she tried hard to get a word in.

"No buts, darling, it's for your own safety, now shoo, I can handle the bags," he urged, shoving her in the direction of where her car was.

"Can't I say goodbye to my own daughter?" she demanded desperately.

"You've had enough time with her, and she's a big girl now, she can take care of herself just fine," he argued, opening the car door for her.

Sighing, defeated, Roxanne gave her daughter a brief wave and an air kiss.

"I'll see you by the end of summer, Lacey," she shouted, seeing as there was a substantial distance between them.

"Bye, mom, I'll see you."

Then she was gone, leaving a puff of dust, a couple of bags and a dazed Brown as she sped off.

He coughed, and fanned the dust away from himself.

"Do I really have to carry all of this shite?" he asked sceptically, staring down at the heavy bags.

She grinned smugly. "You did offer, after all, Brownie."

He cringed at that nickname. "Well, you certainly are Roxanne and Ben's little girl, aren't you?"

Lacey shot him a bright, dazzling smile.

"I do try, you know," she pointed out, leading the way to residence.

Brown muttered something under his breath as he trailed behind her rather sluggishly, finding it difficult to keep up with the teenage girl.

"So which cabin do I get this year?" she inquired. "It's only fair that I get the one I've been eyeing, being a senior and all."

It also happened to be her dad's cabin from years back.

"Sorry kitten," he apologized, arm against a tree, supporting all his weight as he huffed and puffed, "but we have a special instructor this summer, and he's had as "called dibs" on it already, seeing as he doesn't exactly want to be here."

She automatically pouted grimly.

"Tell you what," he offered, "I'll let you have the one on the left, your mom stayed in that one when she was in her last year. A couple of the older girls have been eyeing it, but I'll give it to you, how does that sound?"

Lacey forced out a smile. "Thanks, Brown, I appreciate it."

He dropped her bags by the door of her new cabin with a loud thump, and she was pretty sure he broke something, he always did.

"So who's this special instructor?" she questioned with mild interest.

He heaved a sigh. "My nephew, Shane Gray, you remember him, right?"

"Barely," she remarked, "but what happened to him? Isn't he the Hollywood Bad Boy these days?"

"He grew up, so he says," he replied grimly. "This is supposed to be rehab for the bugger, he's loss his edge, if you know what I mean. Anyways, I need to get going if I want to get the Welcome Jam up and running by tonight."

He bent over and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later, stay out of trouble, Haybern."

"Later, Brown."

It was still early, barely even 8 in the morning yet, and from the looks of it, no one of any importance was going to arrive anytime soon.

She stretched her arms over her head, and peered out the row of transparent glass doors, wondering if the view from the other cabin was any better. Surely Brown was far from residence now, so there was no harm in sneaking around in that legendary cabin that almost all the kids knew the legend to. But most never really knew that these two notorious ex-campers were her parents.

It was better that way, she concluded, because she couldn't even be compared to her parents. They were rock heroes at this camp, and even better known for what they had together. They were destined to live out this fairytale that when being told, everyone falls silent in order to enjoy every moment of the story. Even war heroics couldn't come close to Anna and Ben.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey Kiddies :

Hope you liked Chapter Two, and the the story so far. (:

I'd like to thank my lovely reviewer(s) (I'd love to say reviewers, but I can't seeing as that's not the case.) for the lovely comment! :D

We'll be seeing Shane Gray next time, so stay tuned. ;D

Keep Rockin'.

- QK.

PS: That was a Passive-Aggressive Canadian-esque way of urging you guys to review. ;)


	3. Act Three: Ankle Deep

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Act Three: Ankle Deep

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The two teenagers were the epitome of Final Jam, what everyone had been anticipating every year they stepped on the grounds of this camp. Every person, including the instructors were fascinated in how they were going to top each other this year, and once Final Jam came to an end, there was already buzz and hype on what the next year would be. And the competition would only get tighter every year, and they were sure that their last Final Jam was going to be so big that there was no way anyone could forget it.

And that's exactly what happened, but not in a way that they had expected.

Final Jam Session, right after the Final Jam Victor was announced, the two legendary rockers ended the show with fireworks, singing a duet together. No one saw it coming, and it wasn't who did better in Final Jam that they'll forever remember, it was that duet, the two who were like water and oil, coming together, and putting competition aside.

Yeah, so it sounds like some bad myth made to teach the campers that there is more to music than competition, but whoever had been there, in that hall of 400 plus the moment the two set foot on the stage, hand in hand, it was as if they were watching a fairytale in the world of reality; it was mind-blowing. What they had at camp was what kids dream of having; the friends, the fame, the adrenaline, and the romance.

Lacey had it all, the friends that she could feel the bonds growing stronger to every summer, the fame, well, partially, she was alright, a little disappointing when you have the genes that she has; although it was long gone now, the adrenaline every time she stepped onto the camp grounds, and even the romance a couple of years ago, but not exactly the relationship she had been expecting, it hadn't been that "Ben and Anna destined to be together" relationship she had been hoping for. But this summer was all about scoping out for new talent, more friends, better food, crazy fun, dance offs, and some great music. Apparently, this summer was also all about Shane Gray, she assumed, being almost able to hear the screaming girls every morning.

"He's already screwing up my summer..." she thought, rolling her eyes back, kicking a pebble across the uneven earth. "Screaming girls and cocky douche bag pretty boy pop stars, I can do without."

She pushed open the sliding door easily, not surprised that it had been unlocked. Ducking in through the glass door, she took a couple of steps into the cabin and stopped to marvel at the sight of it. It felt so warm and cozy in there, with the cherry oak bed frames and dresser polished and shining with pride. It was darker than she had expected it to be, with its wine red walls, and dark chocolate floors.

It was similar to the other senior residences, but there was something about knowing that the self-proclaimed "Rock Prince" had once stayed there made it different from all of the others that lacked in comparison. It was how it just demanded attention by the little who knew exactly how remarkable it was, a historical landmark, even. It was like a well kept secret for the ones who know it, and something that is passed absentmindedly, without a thought by those who didn't.

Lacey let her legs give way as she slumped down onto the bed, and briefly pondered about whether was it only her mother did her dad have on that bed during his three years in this residence. She wouldn't have been surprised if he did. But hey, that's reality, guys have always slept around, and they will continue to do so. She just hoped that her mom was the last girl the notorious Ben Haybern had on that bed.

"Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my cabin?" an abrupt voice snarled maliciously.

She jerked at the sudden, booming voice and found a young man emerging from the narrow corridor, with the most obnoxious scowl on his face that she had only seen perhaps twice in her short lifetime. It was understandable of not being pleased to find some stranger in your cabin, and she was about to apologize before he cut her off.

"There is something called knocking, ever heard of it?" he snapped in distaste.

"You see, I was considering apologizing," she noted, gesturing with her left hand, "but seeing as you keep on being a conceited douche bag, I see no reason to treat anyone with courtesy if they aren't willing to do the same."

"Do you know who I am?" he demanded in outrage.

"No, I don't," she replied calmly, but oh, she did. Everyone did. "But something tells me that you're going to tell me whether I knew or not. But please, do go on."

"I'm Shane fucking Gray," he spat out, "I make girls like you fall on your knees to kiss the ground I walk on, and I don't need this shit from you, got it?"

"Oh, big deal," she spat out, equally as snappy. "So what if you're "Shane fucking Gray"? You're just another cookie cutter pop star who's sold out on making music that he cares for, and sings the sugar-coated bullshit with lyrics so shallow that it only reaches up to my ankle if I step into it because the label says that is what sells!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, bitch?" he roared. "You don't know shit about this industry; you have no right to scrutinize me or my music!"

"I am someone who has enough dignity to know better than to sell out," she hissed, eyes narrowing. "And I know more about this industry than you think, Gray, much more than you think."

"Get the fuck out of my cabin!" he blasted, not bothering to look at her as he shot his finger towards the door.

"I know one girl who isn't going to degrade herself by getting on my knees just to kiss the ground a person walks on, especially if he's nothing more than a spoiled, insufferable cookie cutter, sugar-coated pop star who doesn't know the first thing about sticking by his music," she hollered as she made her way to the door.

She heard something shatter promptly after, not surprised that the pop star had lost his temper and furiously knocked over a vase in his path of destruction.

"Out!"

Lacey shot him a nasty glare, and huffed out a mock laugh, giving him a mock salute as she slammed the door shut.

* * *

Author's Note: Hello My Adoring Audience,

Looks like there's some sort of confrontation brewing up in Camp Rock, and it's not even the second day yet! Doesn't look like the on-going bullets of insults and quick wit is going to end any time soon now. (: More entertainment, I suppose.

Hope you guys are lovin' it so far.

Summer has definitely given me far too much time, if I can put out two chapters on the same day. :B

Cheers,

- QK.


	4. Act Four: Shock Value

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Act Four: Shock Value

* * *

"I hate your nephew!" she instantly hissed when she caught sight of Brown in the mess hall, trying to have a peaceful breakfast before the fiasco that was going erupt once the kids started to come in by the masses, every year, just minutes before lunchtime.

He heaved an inward sigh, and scooted around the edge of the bench, straddling the front of it to face the pissed off brunette. He decided that it was far too early to supervise two practically grown-up teenagers bicker violently so early in the summer. Especially when one was a spoiled bad boy pop star, and the other being a stubborn, headstrong hybrid of two legends back in his day, the Golden Era, he liked to call it, who was a mix of all things good and bad of said rock heroes.

"Not yet, Lace," he whined, squeezing his eyelids closed. "Uncle Brown hasn't had his breakfast yet, and we both know that this breakfast ultimately decides how the summer turns out, now shoo and act like a mature young lady and figure it out yourself."

"Does taking care of myself allow me the right to have the douche bag neutered?" she asked mockingly.

"Sure, why not, just leave me alone," he cried out in exasperation, trying to get her away.

It was only when Lacey was half-way down the mess hall did he replay the question she had asked in his head; he hadn't been really paying attention the first time around.

"Wait-No!" he yelped helplessly. "You're not allowed to neuter him! I'd like to see great nieces and nephews, you know!"

"Later, Brownie!" she sang in a sing-song tone.

"I'm serious!" he shouted powerlessly.

Breakfast was less enjoyable as she would have liked. It was 10, so it wasn't exactly breakfast, more like brunch, and Brown had been long gone, scrambling all over the place trying to get everything together last minute. She was enjoying her brunch alone that morning, until the door flung open, revealing a sight (or, a person) that made her frown in distaste, losing all possible appetite.

There, swaggering into the mess hall like he owned the joint was Shane Gray, tossing an apple carelessly up into the air and catching it, grimacing once he caught sight of the brunette. She didn't bother to take a second glimpse at him, and continued on eating, unconscious that his presence was making her blood boil as she hacked into her pancakes, and stabbed it forcefully with her fork before chewing slowly.

He sat by the long table behind hers, glaring bullets into the back of her head. Sure, he didn't hit girls, sometimes, but these were one the times that he wanted nothing more than taking a punch at her. He decided to settle for something else, which he guessed was equally as horrid, with a higher shock value.

She felt something wet and sticky drizzle the back of her hair. Eyes wide in shock, she hesitantly reached back and indeed, it had been both wet and sticky. She examined her finger with narrowed eyes and brought the finger up to her nose to get a good waft. Maple Syrup.

Lacey instantly spun around, glowering with spite, and her suspicions were confirmed when she caught sight of Shane Gray with a bottle of maple syrup in his hand. He was grinning smugly.

Dropping the bottle, he raised both hands in mock surrender, the smug grin refusing to be wiped clean off his face. "It slipped, honest."

She sucked on her teeth, eyes looking upward, trying to stay calm, but evidently, it wasn't working when she stealthily got hold of the peanut butter on a spoon and flung it at him, before squirting the maple syrup promptly afterwards.

"Oh, I guess that slipped too," she mimicked, "honest!"

He gawked at her with angry wide eyes and muttered out a fair number of cusses, trying to shake off the maple syrup on his hands, shoving his chair back so that it fell onto the floor with a loud crash and he swaggered slowly over to where she had been standing, sucking his teeth and trying to control his unusual breathing pattern. He had been a good bit taller than her, towering over her easily.

"That's it, bitch, you're going down!" he roared, pushing his pie into my face.

Oh, she wasn't going to let that slide. Lacey grabbed him by the neck and dunked his head into a bowl of cereal and milk.

He emerged, with his hair wet with milk, and bits of cheerio's tacked onto his face, and she could help but to give him a mock smile of victory.

Of course, it quickly disappeared when he splashed a jug of lemonade on her, seeking refugee quickly under a table by the entrance of the mess hall. She shrieked so loud that he was sure he had permanently lost some of his hearing.

"You're not going to come out of this joint alive, you hear me Shane Gray?" she barked, wiping the liquid off her eyes, blindly staggering around until she regained partial eyesight. She grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprinted after him. Oh, he was a dead man walking.

"Resorted to hiding hmm?" she goaded, trying to track him down. "A little pathetic, don't you think?"

She felt something a bunch of hard objects pummelling her and she screamed, turning around to find a smug little pop star with an apple he was tossing up in the air with a cocky amusement twinkling in his eye.

"It's called strategy, bitch," he remarked smugly.

Glaring, she picked up a couple of the eclectic fruits and whipped them back at him, as he tried to shield himself using his arm, which was in vain, laughing at her rage, with a couple of cusses under his breath.

Due to his temporary vulnerability, she was able to get close enough and covered him with whipped cream from head to toe with close-range precision. He knocked the can out of her hand, and used her own weapon against her, laughing as she tried to run away.

"Oh, you're not getting away that easily," he called out, smirking like mad.

* * *

Author's Note: Hmmm... Not much to say... Besides that Food Fights are a source of endless entertainment, of course. :D

Not feelin' the love guys, leave some hearts and send me a review! ;)

Cheers,

-QK.


	5. Act Five: Impracticality

* * *

Act Five: Impracticality

* * *

This waging war continued on for another twenty minutes, and by that time, the floors were glazed in slippery, sticky substances, and they easily slid across them, no longer needing to run, although stopping was another story, of course. They crashed into the walls, and each other far more times than they had been expecting. Of course, there were a number of slips and falls, and tackling and shoving and all of that violence as well, but nothing that was necessary to go into detail about. Lacey was drizzled in chocolate-y goodness, with pieces of anything and everything stuck to her, while Shane was dripping of root beer and whipped cream, tiny marshmallows and sprinkles meant for the ice cream in his hair.

The battle ended with the two slumped on the ground, against each other with the support of a table-leg, panting and huffing like they had just run a 20k marathon or something of the like. They seemed to have much more fun out of the morning food fight than anything else. It was almost like paint ball, except much better than paint ball, with more collisions, food and casualties.

"Truths?" she asked, stretched out her hand, offering it to him.

He stared at it and heaved a sigh, before taking her hand into his, and shook it.

"This isn't the end, you know that, right?" he asked offhandedly.

"Oh, of course," she replied airily. "But you're going down, pretty boy pop star."

The two looked down at their hands and frowned.

"I think we're stuck," she announced, her frown growing deeper.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," was his snarky reply.

"I really don't like you, you know that?" she questioned.

"Likewise," he retorted simply.

"Agree to disagree?" Lacey proposed.

"Only if you pry your hand off of mine," he offered.

The two yanked their grasp in the opposite direction, and slowly became untangled. They both looked at their hand in disdain.

"We probably should get out of here before Brown catches us," she proposed.

He nodded. "We can blame it on this year's swarm of rabid raccoons if it ever comes to that."

"A little impractical," she criticized.

"It's Brown," he said in all seriousness. "He'll believe anything as long as it's elaborate enough."

"I doubt we can pull this one over him while covered in anything and everything inside this mess hall," she pointed out, pulling herself off the sticky floor. "So I'll see you at Welcome Jam then?"

He did the same, towering over her as he brushed off the non-existent dirt off himself. "Doubt it,"

Her brow quirked up. "Come now, sure, this isn't exactly what you were planning for you summer, the least you can do is try to enjoy yourself, Mr. Big and Bad Pop Star." She brushed passed him and her last sentence sounded more like a statement than a question. "So I'll see you there, yeah?"

He found the truths to be a little too general. Was it supposed to be truths for everything or just the battle held at an unlikely place? It took five showers, half a bottle of shampoo and conditioner along with a dip in the lake to get the smell and the actual substance of everything that had been present off himself.

He had to admit, it was the most fun he has had in a ridiculously long period of time, although he was a bastard to have even instigated the mess. He still wasn't very fond of her, the nameless girl, no matter of her laid-back attitude, or her I-don't-give-a-fuck perspective, she was still a full of bullshit bitch that didn't know her place. He was Shane freaking Gray, he could do whatever the hell he pleased, and was sick and tired of his family and band mates (he couldn't even bother calling them his friends) to try to change him for the better. Shane Gray liked himself perfectly as he was, and wasn't planning of changing for anyone.

It was only later that day did he decide that the truths was specifically on the waging food war; he wasn't quite yet ready to put down the artillery he had planned out for his revenge. No one who calls him a conceited prick was going to go unscathed, and without casualty. Oh, there wasn't going to be a peaceful end to this war; oh no, not yet. He wasn't going to give up his amusement when this was the only line they dropped down to him; surely, this was going to be a horrible summer where he'll be forced to hide in bushes and improve his sprinting skills since his sadistic band mates decided to feed him to the wolves; or rather, his fan club, but in honesty, he was sure he'd make it just fine if they did indeed feed him to the wolves; at least they were less rabid.

Sure, it was still early and he had enough time to warm up on his running, but he decided that getting in a good jog before the campers got there would be a good idea, he could get some fresh air, look at a tree, get a tan, make an attempt to enjoy nature, get his new shoes splattered in mud and god knows what, get his muscles into routine of some insane running he'd be doing all summer AND work an electrical power tool to build that damned bird house Jason had been pestering him about. Ha, he was killing one, two, three... SEVEN; he was killing not one, or two, or five, but seven birds with one stone, and finishing that ridiculous checklist Nate had texted him. Now, wasn't he a clever cookie? Well, he thought so.

_Dude, you started on my birdhouse yet? HURRY GOD DAMN IT!_

_-Jason_

Having had enough, Shane Gray chucked the electronic piece of shit he called a cell phone into the lake, feeling a great sense of satisfaction as it bubbled when it sank. He wasn't going to build a fucking bird house, and if he did, he'd smash it over Jason's head continuously until either he suffered major internal head trauma, or the bird house broke; whichever one comes first. Of course, if he managed to not die from the strangling once Shane caught sight of him first- Wait, no, he quickly changed his mind and decided that Nate should be the first one to dead, he was clearly the brains of the whole intervention, seeing as Jason's was non-existent.

Oh yes, that's right, Mr. Cookie Cutter Pop Star was making a hit list, maybe he isn't all sugar and spice after all.

* * *

Author's Note: Hello's,

Just managed to squeeze this chapter in, a little later than usual, but I suppose that's fine. (:

Hope you like it. ;D

Laters,

-Lise.

PS: In case any of you haven't noticed, I changed my pen name; just putting it out there. ;) As cutesy as Quizzical Kitten was, I didn't feel like it suited me terribly well anymore.


	6. Act Six: Makeshift Windows

* * *

Act Six: Makeshift Windows

* * *

Not so far away, a certain nameless brunette was choosing to be more "social" (to say the least) was by the main entrance, mingling with people who she had seen practically every summer. Sure, there were some new faces, but the oldies, or at least the people from a year ago were still here. It looked like the party had already started when she got there, there was singing, instruments blasting, amps fired up with the guitars and basses blaring. There was a makeshift stage there, and she wasn't surprised to find Gavin up there, scratching and deejay-ing, getting the party started.

She hopped up on stage and danced her way next to him, smiling. He quickly caught sight her and he shifted the headphones so that if was off his left ear, grinning back. Lacey laughed and tackled him with a long hug, and they could both hear whistling in the audience.

"Gavin, I've missed you!" she exclaimed, trying to be heard over the blasting music when she pulled away, getting a getting a closer look at him. "Well, haven't you grown; what, 5'11 now?"

"5'10, actually," he corrected, patting her head. "Is it just me, or did you shrink, Lace?"

She pushed his hand away and glowered at him half heartedly. "Enough of the short remarks, Gavin,"

He raised his hands up in mock surrender. "It's all out of good humour, no seriousness here."

"Doesn't it suck knowing that we're practically prehistoric these days?" she asked pouting.

"How would you know?" he asked. "You practically fit right in with those 12 year old girls-"

He was interjected with her slapping his arm playfully.

"Oww, dude, what the hell, camp is supposed to be a place of peace, not violence!" he cried in outrage.

"Unnecessary violence is not allowed," she corrected matter-of-factly. "Necessary violence is alright in the books, and that was clearly very necessary."

"Fair enough," he heaved a sigh. "And if prehistoric equals respect, then I'm all up for it, the kiddies treat me like God, and quite frankly, I adore it."

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked sarcastically, brow arched. "But, hey-"

"Yeah?" he inquired.

"You look good," she smiled inwardly.

A small crooked grin crept up on the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you too."

A pause.

"So I'll see you at Welcome Jam later then?" she asked enthusiastically.

His grin grew a bit bigger. "Wouldn't miss it."

Lacey gave him a quick squeeze of a hug before hopping off the stage, with Gavin's eyes wandering in her direction for a little too long, just before she disappeared in the cluster of people, many of which he knew quite well. He shifted his headphones back on and continued to keep the party rocking.

There was only one perk about being a senior at the camp, and that was knowing practically everyone from the years before, although it does cause a bit of trouble when you're trying to find someone and being stopped and bombarded with hugs every step you take, but apparently, it's something that you grow accustomed to. The camp was like a family; a really big, dysfunctional family who bickers and cries and hugs and has sing offs and dance offs, clearly nothing unusual, no, not at all.

"So what was all that about with you and Gavin on the stage, Haybern?" an alto, feminine voice asked from behind.

She didn't even need to turn around to figure out who it was; all she needed to hear was that smooth voice, and questions that person already knew the answer to.

"Meggo's!" Lacey exclaimed in delight, spinning around to squish the taller blonde in a bone-crushing bear hug. "I've missed you so much! It's so nice to have someone ask me questions that they already know the answers to! How've you been?!"

"Lace, you're crushing my bones," Meaghan managed to squeak out. Lacey loosened her grip.

"School's been a bitch," she scoffed out. "I've been waiting all year for this, and yeah, I've missed you too. But no, seriously, what was that all about?"

"I was just saying hi," she defended. "You know, being friendly? Perhaps you know of the concept, Meaghan?"

"I don't need any sass from you," she deadpanned. "But Gavin looks pretty good this year."

"You do too," Lacey gasped, getting a good look at her close friend. "What the crap is this all about? Did everyone just get hotter over night, just before camp or something, because this isn't funny anymore! You look drop dead gorgeous, if you weren't paying attention, Meggo's."

Meaghan heaved a sigh, stretching the skin under her eye with her finger. "You see these? I was up _all_ night packing-"

"Serves you right for last-minute packing," she interjected, arms folded over her chest.

"Whatever," Meaghan brushed aside in irritation. "So when did you get here? 7? 8 maybe?"

"Seven," she replied. "You know how it is, it's tradition, both my parents came at ungodly hours when they went here."

"Which cabin have you picked out for us this year, hmm?" her friend pondered, picking up her bags.

Lacey helped carry some, as she looped her arm around her friend's and they set off for residence, leaving the party that was clearly well underway by the front entrance of the camp, going deeper into the woods.

"It's the best of the joint," Lacey remarked proudly, as the two girls were laughing, giddy about apparently nothing. "Well, second best, seeing as Shane Gray got the one that I've been wanting since forever, but whatever. We have a better view of the lake anyways, so it's not all that bad."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Meaghan chanted as if she was trying to calm a ghostly race horse. "Shane Gray's here? What the crap, this wasn't in any of the memos- What is he frigging doing here, but whatever, it doesn't matter, he's hot, and he's a Camp Rock Legend-!"

Lacey cleared her throat loudly in disgust.

"Clearly not as good as your parents of course," she quickly added in, as if it had been a fact, "they'll still be here when Shane Gray loses his fame, and fortune, and good looks. But seriously, what is he doing here?"

"Brown said something about rehab for the Bad Boy prick," she shrugged carelessly, sliding open the cabin's door.

"Nice joint," the blonde applauded, dropping her stuff on the ground of the bed across from Lacey's.

"Surely there is something else we can talk about besides Shane Gray's good looks and lack of charm," Lacey remarked flatly.

Meaghan shrugged. "Not really. It's all just the same old crap; it's nice that Brown's mixing it up a bit this year. So is he going to be teaching a class or something like that this year? Or is he just going to sit around and be the sarcastic prick he is?"

The brunette eyed her oddly, a faint smirk creeping onto her lips.

"Hey, I just think he's hot," she defended, throwing her arms up in surrender. "I could care less about his music, and I know enough to know that he's not a very sweet, nice guy."

Lacey breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that Meaghan wasn't going to be one of those girls that would trip over her feet to get a look at Shane Gray. Meaghan was far too cynical to get herself wrapped up over a pop star, especially the likes of Shane Gray.

Frowning, Lacey picked up a pebble she found on the floor of their cabin, and chucked it at the window of the cabin next to theirs. Unfortunately, she was unaware that the window had been wide open, so the jagged rock flew into the window, and a sudden howl of pain followed promptly after. She winced at the sound, knowing that Shane Gray had about only wore one emotion, that being a short-tempered jackass, and he surely wasn't going to be happy about this. She quickly came back to her senses and realised that she didn't really care about how he was going to react, he had no wrath besides food flinging.

His head popped out of his window, and there was a definite scowl across his face.

"What the fuck?!" he demanded.

Lacey and Meaghan both poked their heads out the window.

"Sorry about that," she hollered, not terribly sincere. "I thought the window was closed."

"So you were planning of smashing my window?" he asked sarcastically.

"So what are you in for?" Meaghan asked, ignoring the question.

"None of your business, Blondie," he snapped back.

"Are you teaching here, or are you forced to get some fresh air and deflate your ego, hmm?" the brunette questioned, frowning.

"Teaching," he replied bluntly. "Any more questions, because I really don't want to leave here suffering from head trauma."

I eyed Meaghan. "Anymore questions, Meggo's?"

"What kind of a name is Meggo's?" he spat in distaste.

"Nickname, you smart ass," Meaghan shot back. "The name's Meaghan. And no, Lace, no more questions. And if you still haven't caught on, that's a nickname."

"Oh God," he groaned. "Now there are two of you, I'm going to _strangle_ Nate..."

"You can't strangle Nate!" Meaghan exclaimed in mock dismay. "He's the cute one! He's the one who's keeping the group alive, you know."

* * *

Author's Note: Look like there's even more bickering going on now, and it doesn't seem to look like it's ending any time soon.

Thank you guys for the reviews, I appreciate it immensely! (As does my ego, ha ha ha.)

Hope you like it. :)

Cheers,

-Lise


	7. Act Seven: Distractions

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Act Seven: Distractions

* * *

"I've had enough of your bullshit, now if you don't mind, leave me the fuck alone, okay?" he huffed out in a puff of rage.

"Bye Shane!" the girls cried out in mock sincerity in unison.

He slammed his window shut, and the girls laughed, bringing their heads back inside.

"He's just like my neighbour," Meaghan rolled her eyes. "Mind you, he's seven."

"Not exactly my ideal neighbour for the summer," Lacey sighed. "Maybe we can sell off our cabin, make some cash out of it, and have him miserable at the same time. Although all the cabins are pretty crappy."

"Oh, but think about it this way, we can make him miserable and feel very good about ourselves, you know, instant gratification," Meaghan insisted.

Lacey just smirked. "You like having him as a neighbour, don't you?"

"What can I say, he's much hotter in the flesh," Meaghan admitted. "Come on, how bad can living next to Shane Gray really be? So I'm guessing you two have already met, and bickered by the sounds of it."

"Oh, he bickers with everyone, including strangers," she guaranteed, "I can assure you that much, Meg. But come on, let's go back to the makeshift party, it's a little pathetic sitting alone in a cabin when there's a party rocking so hard that it hurts."

"Alright, let's go, I want to get a better look at Gavin," Meaghan stated honestly. "God, he looks so good this year, I could just-"

"Please don't even think about finishing that sentence," Lacey pleaded, looping arms with the blonde, pulling her out the door.

He poked his head out of the window, just to catch a glimpse of the two girls leaving. He ruggedly yanked his guitar off his bed and made his way down the hill over to the docks. No one was there, but that wasn't much of a surprise, seeing as everyone was just getting to their cabins, and once they were done with that, there was an unofficial getting there-welcome bash, and for having lived 48 weeks without this type of environment and action, they were all glad to be back, and pumped up to party.

He sat by the edge of the docks, kicking off his shoes so that the cool water could touch the bottom of his feet as he skidded past it. Shane strummed a few cords carelessly, with his eyes shut closed, his mind evidently elsewhere.

Tossing it aside, Shane picked up a random piece of scrap paper from his cabin that he had brought along, and scribbled on it angrily, letting a low growl as he wrote. He never really believed in the whole music songbook scheme, he'd rather save a tree or two and just staple the scrap sheets together. She had gotten the best of him, and despite everything, what she said struck a nerve, to the point where he found himself writing a song about the subject. He knew that the fame had gotten to his head, he was still the same person, and he was going to prove that to her.

Shane didn't really understand why he was so compelled, so desperate for this one girl to see who exactly he was, behind the entire high-profile pop star image. It was probably because she had the nerve of treating him like everyone else, and the least he could have done was to show her who he was. Surely, he was still a jackass, but at least he was putting in the effort, right?

The background noise was distracting, the music, the laughter; he was in no position to deny it. If she were to have asked him to go with them down to the makeshift party by the front of the entrance of the camp, he would have honestly said yes and tagged along, even if she genuinely did not mean to invite him to join them. She was the only person who he knew at the camp, and although they had a mutual dislike of one another, she was better than no one. Although every girl there would have known exactly who he was, recited his favourite color, food, guitar, etc with ease, he didn't like the idea of not knowing anyone there at all, and forced to wander around like a loner.

Shane Gray wasn't exactly shy; he was just extroverted and thrived off company. He knew he was, although, it appeared to be a paradox, with that elitist arrogance and inflated ego of his. He just never felt comfortable in a situation where he didn't have someone securely by his side in a sea of strangers. Shane Gray was vulnerable when alone, intimidated, even.

He would have liked to be there, just to chill and mingle with people who believed that his music was questionable, but he didn't. Just because she hadn't asked him to. It was all too silly, immature once he thought about it.

He was pretty sure he did not like this girl. The blonde was hot, though, he had to admit. The brunette was equally as gorgeous, but he disliked her, so hot-ness levels were irrelevant. No, he was pretty sure the blonde was hotter; she was like a blonde bombshell. But with a smart-ass mouth. That, he could honestly say, he did not like what so ever.

He didn't like the fact that girls weren't deliberately throwing themselves at his feet, either. It was definitely something he needed to get used to, if, of course, that is possible. Shane himself wasn't so sure about that.

It was starting to get dark, and he could hear the music and the distracting noise disperse in a direction that wasn't really within earshot. Welcome Jam was probably going to be under way soon, by the look of things.

Sighing, Shane picked up all his belongings and made his way back to the cabin to drop off his things before heading out to the Welcome Jam. He, after all, did promise to make a special appearance to the nameless brunette, who wasn't all that nameless anymore. Lace... He assumed it must have been a nickname for Lacey or something like that. He brushed it off, deciding that he can try to figure it out later.

He found a not very pleased Uncle sitting outside on the deck. Shane barely even noticed him.

"Food fight, huh, Mr. Pop Star?" Brown asked abruptly, causing Shane to jump in reflex.

Shane scratched the back of his head. "So, you found out, huh?"

Brown did not look very pleased with his nephew's response.

"Come with me, Shane," he growled in a low tone. "I'll deal with you and Ms. Lacey Haybern once Welcome Jam is under way."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey Guys!

Not really much time to talk, I should be heading out soon.

Just wanted to wish everyone a Happy CANADA DAY!! Hope you all have a great one. (:

It kinda sucks that I'm going to be missing the fireworks by the beaches, but I guess I'll just have to wait until Labour Day. ):

Oh, and thanks to everyone for the fav's, alerts and REVIEWS! It means a lot to me, so keep it up! :D

Cheers,

- Lise


	8. Act Eight: Shocker

* * *

Act Eight: Shocker

* * *

Meaghan had ditched her to chill with Gavin up on stage, but Lacey managed to keep herself entertained for the time being, but quickly grew bored. Heaving a sigh, Lacey decided to meander around a bit more, in hopes of finding Tiffany or Caitlyn, seeing as she had a feeling that Meaghan wasn't going to detach herself from Gavin's side anytime soon. In the midst of the crowd, she caught sight of curly, sandy blonde hair, and a pair of neon coloured sneakers, and she smiled, tackling down the girl with a hug.

"Oww, geez, Lacey, I told you that you need to give me a five minute warning every time before instigating this!" the girl shrieked in between her laughs.

"Oh, I've missed you lots too, Katie!" she squealed enthusiastically.

Grimacing, Caitlyn managed to pull out of the death-grip of a hug Lacey had her in.

"So where's Tiff and Meaghan?" she asked. "I don't think I've seen them around yet."

"Meaghan's up there flirting with Gavin," she explained, jerking a thumb in their direction.

"Wow- now isn't that a shocker?" Caitlyn asked sarcastically.

"Indeed," she played along. "And, you know Tiff; she'll be late, as always."

Lacey looped her arm around Caitlyn's and dragged her off. "Now that you're here, we can get the party started!"

It wasn't before long did the sun slowly set and everyone made their way to the North Edge of the Camp, where the stage was already set, and the barbeque having already producing massive amounts of food. It was like the typical Welcome Jam as Caitlyn, Tiffany (having finally found her) and Lacey made their way to the front of the stage, hearing the buzz that had already started about what they were going to expect of the talent this year.

What wasn't all so typical was a rather frustrated-looking Brown as he made his way towards the girls.

"Hey Brown, what's up-" Tiffany managed to greet.

He paid no attention to her, and whispered a low, "Come with me," to Lacey, and pulled her off.

The other two girls looked confused, and Lacey gave them a quick "I-have-no-idea-what's-going-on-but-I-bet-I'm-in-deep-shit" look.

He pulled her over to the side, not looking terribly happy. He didn't say a word as he walked briskly through the crowd, as she silently struggled to keep up with his pace. They were by the edge of the woods where she caught sight of Shane Gray leaning against a tree, minus the usual smug smirk he constantly sported. Instead, he looked neutral as his eyes were fixated on a spot on the ground, kicking a rock off in the distance without much of a thought.

Shane only looked up when Lacey was standing in front of him, with Brown standing stiffly by her side. Lacey shot him a quick "what-the-fuck-is-going-on?" look, her guy wrenching and turning in anxiety, having a horrible feeling that it involved the breakfast fiasco.

He shrugged subtly, carelessly, and her brow quirked up.

Brown pointed at the both with narrowed, disappointed eyes.

"I'll deal with you two later," he glowered in a low, dark and frighteningly quiet tone.

Then he was gone, in the usual ball of energy he was always seen in.

She silently leaned against the towering oak tree next to Shane, her eyes on the stage.

"So what's going on?" she asked in a casual, but hesitant tone.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked another rock on the ground.

"He found out," he replied simply.

"You mean, about-"

"Yep," he interjected, in his casual tone.

"How?" she asked, feeling a little flabbergasted.

Lacey knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable, but it slipped her mind so easily; she wasn't the type to think critically of consequences. The thought of the possible punishment made her slump against the tree, covering her face with her hands and let a groan escape her lips.

"It was pretty obvious it was us, we were the only two there that early capable of that mess," he rationalized in a bored voice. "And what's the worst that's going to happen? How bad can the punishment be?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" she exclaimed in exasperation. "The last time he was pissed off at me was when I punched a girl three years ago, and he made me do food prep all summer!"

Shane let out a huff of laughter and he shook his head in disappointment.

"What?" she asked, clearly not catching on. "Am I not the "bad girl" you expected me to be? You disappointed that it was a good girl who called you out for who you were and covered you in a number of sticky substances?"

He couldn't stop laughing, holding a hand out, gesturing for her to wait, and he shook his head in response.

"Oh, you scream good girl, no matter how much of a bitch you are," he finally managed to say. "It's just so fucking hilarious the way you freak when you realize you did something bad girls do. Or, rather, when you get in deep shit for it!"

"This coming from a guy in a boy band?" she scoffed, still feeling partially miserable. "Doesn't count for much does it, hmm?"

* * *

Author's Note: Hey Guys,

Don't really have much to say, besides thank you for all the reviews, alerts and fav's. (:

I hope you like it. (:

Oh, and if you haven't already, go check out my drabbly one-shot thing, "Points of Authority" because I say so, okay? Okay. :D

Cheers,

-Lise.


	9. Act Nine: Laryngitis

* * *

Act Nine: Laryngitis

* * *

"You really want to start round 2, don't you?" he deadpanned.

"Oh, we still have plenty of time for round 2, all summer, actually. Right now, I just want to stoke out the beginning of the first act before Brown gets back."

"Why, you want to get a chance to check out the competition?" he asked.

"Not exactly." Was her vague reply. "So how exactly was your dull afternoon, alone?"

"Brown wouldn't let me out-" he defended.

"Since when did you follow rules?" she mocked.

"Since it involved my well being and safety," he shot back. "I'd get chased into the woods by those fans if I left my cabin, you know. At least this way, Brown can give a brief heads up to everyone, and beg for them to refrain from the violent attacks. Oh, God, I really hate what they're putting me through, and Jason won't shut it about his shitting bird house, and my phone is probably at the bottom of the lake..."

"This is why you pack a disguise," she commented.

"I didn't get a fucking chance to pack," he replied flatly. "You think I came here on my own free will? Oh, no, it started with an intervention, and they pushed me out of the car. And you know what? Nate can't pack for shit."

"I could pretend that I care," she began, weighing her options. "But then that would be considered lying now wouldn't it?"

"I'm sick of your sass," he growled.

"I'm sick of your face," she shot back.

"And I'm sick of this fighting!" Brown interjected in exasperation. "Now, the two of you are going to act like the grow ups that you are, and put your differences aside and clean up the mess hall- TOGETHER. I'll come up with the rest of your punishment later. That means no Welcome Jam for the both of you."

"But-" the both tried in unison.

"No buts," he seethed, not amused. "Now off with you two, I want that hall spotless before you even think about heading back to your cabins, you understand?"

"Yes, Brown." they replied, equally as sullen.

"Mops and cleaning supplies are waiting in the mess hall," he spoke indifferently, in a very monotonous tone, something neither of them knew he was capable of. "So, you've got work to do."

Rolling his eyes, Shane Gray stalked off, with Lacey not too far behind.

The mess hall was dead silent, and even more disastrous than either person remembered it being. Every square-inch was covering in dirt and food, and was clearly an impossible job to handle with only 4 hands. And she had a hunch that Shane Gray wasn't going to be much of a help when he gave up five minutes into the cleaning, plopping himself on a chair.

"You're kidding me, right?" she hissed, pushing the mop across the floor harder than she should have in frustration.

"Cleaning's never been my thing." He told her simply, giving her a mock smile.

"I'm not picking up your slack, you douche," she scathed furiously. "Now get off that royal ass of yours and help, damn it."

"Piss off," he growled. "You're fully capable of cleaning this by yourself."

She flashed him a quick mock smile, only to have it disappear a second later, wheeling her bucket of suds and water in his direction. Pretending to clean, she picked up the bucket easily and dumped it over his head. He screamed. She laughed in gratification.

"Cool down that hot head of yours and come back down to reality," she hissed. "I'm not going to be cleaning this place alone, so get off that pedestal you've put yourself onto and clean."

He scowled at her, and wacked her in the face with the end of his wet mop. Of course, she shrieked and screamed a slur of threats, and he just laughed in triumph. It wasn't before long were they soaked in soap water, with the place, in theory, cleaner than it had been, seeing as it was now covered in cleaning agents. It was pretty evident that there was a clear winner of that certain battle, with Lacey towering over a crumpled Shane Gray on the ground, with a mop too close for comfort in front of his face, and Lacey threatening to shove it in his mouth.

"So are you going to clean now?" she asked, in a threatening tone, offering him a hand.

He took it, and grumbled something incoherent along with some disjointed slurs of cusses fumbling out of his mouth as she handed him a mop.

They worked in silence on opposite corners of the mess hall, with the occasional grumbling cuss from Shane. They could hear the faint music playing outside, from Welcome Jam, knowing that they would never finish in time to catch the last act. Much to their dismay, their cleaning brought them within a relatively close distance away from each other.

"You disappointed that you didn't get to sing for Welcome Jam?" he asked offhandedly.

"I don't sing," she told him flatly.

"You dance, then?" he asked, perplexed.

There was a sudden pause as she thought about the question critically.

"I can manage," she finally decided.

"Then why are you here?" he questioned.

"I used to sing," she brought up casually. "Just not anymore. I'm here for the music, the fun, and the friends."

"So you just gave up singing?"

"It's a long story," she shot down flatly, almost bitterly.

"We have all night, and personally, this silence just makes me feel tone-deaf," he yawned.

She frowned at him. "Came down with a case of laryngitis, docs said it's nothing, and that'd I'd be fine. Three days later, I could talk, but my singing voice was crap and raspy. It's never really been the same after that, so I've just stopped singing."

"How bad can it be?" he inquired.

"I'm not a modest person, so when I mean crap, I mean crap." She repeated. "It's all a part of my superiority-complex."

"That must suck," he muttered carelessly.

"Especially since I had one hell of a voice," she frowned.

"And I'm the one who's conceited?" he interjected, smirking.

"You are," she assured. "I have every right to boast, I did win a Camp Rock Final Jam, it would have been two if my voice didn't die out."

"I won three," he countered.

Lacey rolled her eyes, as she squeezed the excess suds out of her mop.

"You were good, not going to lie," she began, "but not exactly up there with the 2 Camp Rock heroics."

His brow arched. "Who?"

"Anna and Ben?" she let the names pass her lips slowly, but it rang no bells. "You don't know who Anna and Ben are?"

"Should I?" he questioned arrogantly.

"They're rock legends in this joint," she all but cried. "The first year they stepped foot into the joint, they left with everyone knowing who and what they were. They were like the epitome of Camp Rock, and you're telling me that you've never heard the myth before?"

Shane frowned. "Apparently not."

"Wow," was all that she could manage to say at this unbelievable revelation.

"Is it really that unbelievable that I don't know who the hell they are?" he demanded.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"Then tell me the fucking story!" he growled.

Her brow arched. "Maybe later, it could take all month to tell you the story from start to finish."

It was nearly one in the morning when they finally finished cleaning, a long, dreadful, gruelling seven hours in a room with a spoiled bad ass pop star wasn't exactly what she had expected for her first day back at camp, and she wasn't thrilled to be faced with him for the first hour of the 2nd day, either. The mess hall was sparkling clean, and they were the only mess that they left in the hall, both still dripping of soapy cleaning agents and water.

Brown wasn't pleased when he finally popped in to see the two dripping of water.

"Can't the two of you get along?" he sighed in exasperation.

"We didn't kill each other, now did we?" Shane asked rhetorically. "We don't like each other. I think she's a bitch, and she thinks I'm an jackass. So, no, we can't get along, Uncle Brown."

He heaved another sigh. "Just go on, now, you two have a long day tomorrow."

Lacey and Shane brushed past Brown on their way out the door.

It was pitch dark outside, although the stars littered the sky, shining brighter than either had ever seen before.

"Can't see stars like this in a big city," she sighed.

"So what? They're just stars," he deadpanned, stuffing his hands into his pockets, walking beside her.

"It's called nature, Gray," she shot back. "Enjoy it."

"I certainly will not," he spat, crossing his arms.

"You know, there's no one around to spite," she pointed out, huffing out a laugh. "Don't be silly; stop keeping score in your head, and at least to try enjoy it."

"Whatever," he grumbled.

She smirked, walking beside him silently until they reached their cabins.

"Good luck tomorrow," she spoke out offhandedly.

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

"The rabid fans? You're really going to need it. Or a very good disguise," she added in, grinning.

He let out a huff of short-tempered laughter. "Yeah, whatever."

She just shrugged, and slipped into her cabin, leaving him to do the same.

Lacey tipped-toed into the cabin stealthily, hoping not to wake up Meaghan once she got changed out of her messy clothes. It had been the third time she changed that day, and quite frankly, she was getting sick of all of it. Having Shane Gray as an enemy has been proven to be much more work then she had initially thought. He was rowdy, and conceited, and far too persistent.

However, when she took one step into the little living room area, the lights flickered on, revealing Meaghan and another brunette on the couch, eyeing her suspiciously. Clearly, they weren't letting her go without an explanation.

"Tiff, shouldn't you be in your own cabin?" Lacey asked smugly.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "I think you have far more explaining to do than me, Lacey."

"I have no idea what you're talking out," she replied earnestly.

"Oh, come on," Meaghan hissed. "I'm blonde, but I'm not stupid, much less blind. Why was Brown so pissed off, and why were you walking back to residence with Shane Gray at ungodly hours when it's pitch black outside, Haybern?"

Lacey spent a good half an hour explaining what had happened that morning, with the food flinging, and what happened when Brown dragged her away, with the word flinging, and then what happened that night, with the cleaning agent flinging, and why she had been walking back with Shane Gray.

Tiffany sighed dramatically. "Dude, I so wish I was there to catch a sight of that, and seriously, neighbouring with Shane Gray? Lucky you."

"You're missing the point, Tiff," Lacey said flatly. "I'm going to spend my summer forced to be in these petty battles with a conceited bad ass; not exactly what I was planning of doing, you see. And Brown's still not done with the punishment; ugh. I hate Brown and his punishments. I really don't want to waste my time dealing with Shane Gray and his inflated ego; he's screwing up my summer and giving me all the more reason to hate boy bands."

"Doesn't matter," Meaghan shot back. "He's hot."

"You're so deep, Meg, you know that?" Tiffany asked sarcastically.

"Better shallow than a liar," she sang out.

"Tiff, go back to your own cabin, I need to sleep," Lacey groaned. "I'm dead tired and we have classes tomorrow."

She curled up on her bed, and could only hope that tomorrow would bring a better day, knowing that it probably won't.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

The half-asleep boy on the other bed just groaned. "I can ask you the same question."

"Shane Gray," he said bluntly. He was really getting sick of having to introduce himself.

"Gavin Rochester," the sleeping boy muttered from under his blanket. "Your roommate."

"Brown didn't say anything about a roommate!" he blasted angrily.

"Suck it up, princess," Gavin groaned. "Now shut it, I need to sleep."

Pissed off, Shane threw the covers over himself, frustrated at the lack of respect he had been getting from everyone. He was Shane Gray, for fuck's sake, they should be worshipping him like a Rock God, but apparently not. He wondered who exactly were these Rock Heroics that the brunette had mentioned briefly, and why it sounded so familiar.

"Hey Gavin?" he asked loudly.

"Mmm?" he muttered into his pillow.

"Have you heard of Anna and Ben?" he asked. "You know, the apparent "Rock Heroics" at this camp?"

"Of course..." he mumbled, half awake. "They were what made the Golden Era of Camp Rock the Golden Era. They were the most amazing musicians to have ever set foot into this camp. Of course, they hated each other; they were competition, everyone was competition, but then something happened and..."

Gavin's sleepy voice trailed off and left the sentence unfinished, falling back into his dream world.

"Oh come on, you can't fall asleep on me now!" Shane growled, disappointed.

But, he did, and there was a looming suspicion that Gavin wasn't going to wake up from his sleep and tell the story, so Shane just let out a huff of frustration, and quickly fell asleep, just like his newly acquired roommate. There, he was greeted with idealistic dreams of smashing his guitar against Nate's face, and stuffing Jason into the bird house that he had been yearning for.

* * *

Author's Note: Hello's.

In a bit of a rush, so I don't really have much nonsensical commentary, but I hope you like it. (:

Laters,

- Lise.


	10. Act Ten: Glittery Crossfire

* * *

Act Ten: Glittery Crossfire

* * *

Lacey was rudely awoken the next morning with a screechy, high-pitched shriek by her roommate that sent her practically jumping out of her skin. Groaning, the brunette threw the covers off herself and walked to the front of the door, where Meaghan had been. Shocked and pissed off was how she found her roommate, not to mention dripping in purple paint and glitter. There was a note hanging by the front of their door, a red tag.

Ready for Day #2, Haybern?

She poked her head out of the door and saw a not so pleased Shane Gray, and she couldn't bite back her grin.

"Looks like you've miscalculated, Shane Gray," she called out, laughing. "And don't worry about me; I'm more than ready for day 2."

She saw him raise his middle finger before stalking off angrily into his cabin.

"Holy crap," Meaghan hissed slowly, wiping the paint out of her eyes. "Tell him that he'd better watch out if I'm ever caught in the crossfire again."

Lacey laughed, shaking her head, leading her best friend into the cabin.

"Not exactly as fun as you though, huh, Meggo's?" she asked in a snarky tone.

Meaghan glared at her pointing a warning finger in her direction. "If you know what's best for you, then you'd better piss off."

Lacey grinned, but raised her hands up in mock surrender as she slid the door open.

"I'll see your sparkly ass at breakfast, then, Meggo's," she called out.

"Piss off, Haybern!" she heard the blonde cuss openly.

It was a quick walk from residence to the mess hall, as she followed the rest of the campers inside, standing, waiting in line the moved sluggishly that morning. Lacey felt someone slide next to her, and she turned around and found a tall boy dressed rather ridiculously, in a tanned trench coat, a pair of large shades, and a fitted cap. She frowned at the person, and she could only see who it had been when he tilted his shades lower so she could see his eyes, and that conceited grin of his.

"Shane Gray?" she asked, scoffing.

She could barely get the first syllable of his name out because he clapped his hand over her mouth. Taking that opportunity, she spit into his hand, and his eyes widened in disgust, immediately removing it, and flung the saliva off his hand.

"Uncalled for," he hissed. "And keep quiet, they're going to start screaming and I'm going to start going deaf soon at this rate,"

"What was unnecessary was getting my friend in the middle of our crossfire," she shot back.

"It wasn't my fault-"

"Oh, but on the contrary, it was," she interjected smugly, thanking the server for her eggs and bacon, before quickening her pace.

He scrambled to follow her with his own plate. "Well, if she's expecting an apology, then she's mistaken, Shane-"

She grabbed a chocolate milk carton and made her way over to an empty table, and he slid on the opposite side of her at the table.

"Shane Gray doesn't apologize," she interjected in a mocking tone. "I get it."

"Oh, you don't know anything," he told her condescendingly.

"I know when someone is being unnecessarily inconsiderate, and condescending," she countered, glowering.

"I didn't mean it like that," he frowned, poking at his eggs.

"Then how did you mean it, Mr. Bad Ass?" her brow arched questioning.

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, so I did mean it like that, but it slipped, what can I say?"

"More than that," she replied sarcastically.

"You're making this hard, you know that?" he demanded.

"Oh, that was the plan," she quipped, flashing him a grin, disappearing a second later, and popping some bacon into her mouth.

They sat in silence, and she could see the people around them eyeing the mysterious trench coat wearing young man oddly, and the campers were slowly making their way in for the first breakfast of the summer.

"This is getting a little ridiculous," she sighed dramatically. "This war is petty and immature."

"Then what are you trying to propose?" he asked slowly, scraping the last bits of food off his plate.

"What I'm proposing is," she began, bringing her hands clasped together onto the table, "that we end this, right here, right now."

He stared at her, his gaze penetrating through her brightly lit blue eyes, before he finally held up his hand.

"Deal," he managed to utter out.

She bit her lip, her hand slowly reaching for his, and just before she took it, she pushed herself up instantly and pointed at him.

"Oh, my God, it's SHANE GRAY!" she screamed as loud as she was capable of.

"Bitch," he seethed instantly, pushing himself up off his chair to tower over her.

She just smiled, as she heard the immediate screeching and screaming from the room, charging in their direction.

"Here's some advice," she offered. "Run."

He took one last chance to glare at her before sprinting off, the tail of his trench coat flying until he hastily shrugged it off, leaving it on the floor of the mess hall.

"I'm going to get you back for that, Haybern!" he hollered in rage.

* * *

Author's Note: Yeah, I'm such a lazy ass. ): Sorry.

Yes, I know it's short, but 900 words is better than nothing. :P

LOVE YOU ALL.

Cheers,

- Lise.


	11. Act Eleven: Empty Threats

* * *

Act Eleven: Empty Threats

* * *

She couldn't help but to grin in satisfaction, and brushed off the non-existent dirt off herself before sitting back down to enjoy her Shane Gray-less breakfast, just the way she liked it.

"Oh, we're not done yet," she muttered to herself, her lips curled up into a sly smile. "We're not going out that quietly, oh no."

Caitlyn walked into the mess hall, a little dazed when she settled her plate on the table, sitting where Shane Gray had formerly been occupying.

"You'll never believe what I just saw," Caitlyn said, her brows knitted together, shaking her head in disbelief.

"One Shane Gray declaring revenge while being chased by a swarm of girls?" she guessed.

Caitlyn stared at her in incredulity before she glared at her.

"Clearly I should know better by now then to ask," she heaved a sigh in disappointment. "You are far too good at this game."

Meaghan suddenly appeared, sliding next to Caitlyn on the bench.

"So you've regained my honour, huh, Lace?" she asked, sounding more cheery than she had been earlier that morning.

"I guess you ran into Shane Gray and a pack of ravenous girls on your way down here?" she asked brightly.

"It was one of those Kodak moments, I must admit," her friend replied sarcastically.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, how much did I actually miss?" Caitlyn demanded. "We've been back for less than 24 hours and I'm already out of the loop? This is getting a little outrageous, how fast rumours and events fly by."

"Now how can I word this simply...?" Meaghan pondered, her fingers drumming against the wooden table, frowning. "Lacey made some sarcastic remarks to Shane Gray, and he started making his own conceited, nasty comments, which then preceded to a morning food fight with only the two of them, then we threw rocks at his window, but it ended up hitting him, and Brown found out about the mess, and forced them to clean up, which erupted into another fight, soapy this time, and I was greeted this morning with a bucket of purple paint and sparkles dunked all over me because Shane didn't realise that Lacey isn't the only person who opens a door. In short, they don't like each other very much and are in an immature waging war, which I happened to get in the crossfire of, and it won't be pretty."

"Fun," Caitlyn remarked sarcastically, shaking her head.

* * *

Shane sprinted into the cabin and slammed the door shut. He was huffing and puffing, and he had every right to, seeing as he just had a run a marathon around the entire camp perimeter.

Gavin was still in the cabin, getting ready to leave for breakfast. He was surprised to see him roommate wearing his fitted cap and his sunglasses.

Shane was trying hard to catch his breath. He had one hand pressed against the wall, supporting all his weight, and he was pointing to Gavin with the other hand, gesturing for him to wait a second.

"Don't go out there," he warned, his sounded strained, his voice refusing to get any louder. "You'll get mulled over."

"Dude, what's going on?" he asked. "And what are you doing in my hat and shades?"

"Disguise," he breathed out simply, still panting like mad. "Psycho bitches out there, they're vicious, dude."

"Whatever," Gavin sighed, and tossed him something. "Brown wanted me to give this to you, said something about him killing you if you chuck it into the lake, if that makes any sense at all. How am I going to get any breakfast if I don't go out there?"

"If you want to suffer casualties then be my guest," he told him carelessly. "I'm taking refugee until they disperse. Get me a chocolate muffin when you're out there, okay, Gavin? Oh, and make sure you lock the door when you leave."

"Don't you have a class to teach this morning?" he asked. "You know Brown won't be happy if you ditch."

"Safety comes first," he replied bluntly.

"Whatever. Later, man."

"See you, Gav, don't forget the muffin!"

Just as he left, the obnoxious phone started to ring.

"Hello?" he snapped impatiently.

"Yo, Shane, how's my birdhouse going?" the other voice on the line asked.

"Jason, shut up about the birdhouse!" another voice exclaimed in exasperation.

"You're just pissed because you didn't ask for one," the first voice argued.

"I don't even want a bird house!" he countered.

"You could have asked for one and given it to me," the other voice pointed out.

"Now what the hell would you do with two bird houses?" he demanded.

"If you guys called just to argue, then I'm hanging up," Shane growled.

"Sorry," the two voices apologized in unison.

"Guys, I've gotten the damned tan, I've looked at a tree and listened to the mediocre talent here, I think I've learned my lesson," he rationalized. "Now get me out of this shit hole, I'm serious, this is a waste of time."

"You also chucked your phone into the lake," Nate countered, "and instigated a food fight. I don't think you've really learned your lesson yet, dude. Go take a cold shower and chill, alright?"

"Nate, once I get a hold of you, I'm going to strangle you until you die," he threatened, his teeth gritted tensely.

"Throwing empty threats again?" Nate asked condescendingly. "Have you forgotten what the psychiatrist told you about those?"

"Nate-" he growled furiously. "You're a dead man walking, I hope you know that."

"You'll thank us later," Jason replied in a cheeky tone. "Good luck on the bird house, dude, those things are tricky."

"I'm not building you a fucking bird house, Jason!" he snarled impatiently.

"Enough about the bird house please!" Nate shouted in desperation.

The other two boys fell silent.

"Shane, please try not to chuck another phone into the lake, and keep out of trouble, okay?" Nate begged.

"No," he replied flatly. "I'll get into as much trouble as I want, thank you very much."

He hung up promptly, throwing the phone onto the table, glaring at it as if it was a weapon of mass destruction.

Oh, he really did not like technology. It was pretty late into the afternoon, and his supposed class had started ten minutes ago.

He had a feeling that Gavin wasn't coming back with his muffin soon, and seeing as everyone was most-likely still in class, he took the advantage to take a walk without being trampled over by a swarm of psychotic fan girls.


	12. Act Twelve: Crowded

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* * *

**

Twelve: Crowded

* * *

Lacey stretched out her legs, looking around the room. Hip Hop wasn't what she had been expecting in the slightest. A majority of them weren't exactly Hip Hop material, clearly just not fit for it, with their clunky jewellery and their heels. She wasn't afraid to admit it, half of the class were a bunch of preppy girls who switched in last minute at the mention of Shane Gray teaching the class.

It was incredibly ironic, because once the girls signed up, the pop star went MIA.

She was stretching her hamstrings when someone slumped down next to her, peering at the mirror wall in front of her, she smiled at who she saw.

"Oh, hey Gavin," she flashed him a smile. "How'd Welcome Jam go?"

"Pretty good, but speaking of which, where were you?" he questioned, joining her with the stretching. "Kate said Brown pulled you aside, and then you were just gone for the rest of the night. You should have been there; the new talent is pretty impressive this year."

"Oh really now?" she asked, mildly interested. "Well, it's a long story, about me going MIA all night, but sucks that I missed it. I bet you were amazing as usual, Gav."

"I was," he replied, pretending to be cocky. He took a brief glance of the room and frowned. "Funny, class this year is more crowded than I remembered..."

"So I'm not the only one who's noticed?" she teased.

"Well... This isn't really the usual crowd for Hip Hop. Probably because everyone figured out that Shane Gray was teaching, the only logical explanation to all of this." She rolled her eyes, gesturing to the room.

"This is Hip Hop 3," he rationalized. "Not 1, or even 2. Do they really think they can handle this?"

"Honestly, Gav, seeing as I've been ridiculously out of shape all year," she admitted. "I don't think _I'll_ be able to handle it. And think about it this way, maybe the weak will be weeded out? Just think about it, it could be like Camp Rock: Survivor and a pinch of the Bachelor. I'm sure Brown would be very up for it."

He fell over laughing. "Oh, maybe this can be more fun than I was anticipating. Where's Kate this morning? Of all the girls, or anyone, I'd expect her to be here."

"She's feeling sick this morning, the poor girl, so she went back to rest up," Lacey explained. "I'm glad that you're here, this isn't really my crowd, if you know what I'm saying."

"No doubt about it." He confessed wholeheartedly. "It's a shame that these girls are all wasting their time waiting here, since I think Shane's gone AWOL, well, I don't think, I know he'll be AWOL today."

"I'm not surprised," she frowned inwardly. "But how legit are you about this, Gavin?"

"He's my roommate," he answered flatly. "He's apparently going to take refuge in our cabin."

"Smart man," she remarked sarcastically. "Dude, I feel sorry for you, having to room with a conceited pop star in the legendary cabin. I don't know how you manage to put up with the jackass."

He shrugged, breathing out a laugh. "Don't bring him muffins of the chocolate variety."

She looked at him with a perplexed expression, but let out a breathy giggle anyway.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but okay!" she cried out, giving him a confused, unsure thumbs up.

"So what are we going to do, with the teacher AWOL, and all?" he asked, grinning.

"I have no idea," she replied honestly. "Brown's not going to be happy about this, though."

"Do you want to stay in this joint?" he asked sceptically.

"Absolutely not," she shot down flatly. "I don't know, I think I'll go check up on Kate, to make sure she's doing okay."

He offered her a hand, and pulled her up.

"Yeah, I didn't get a chance to catch Tiffany at Welcome Jam, so I'll see how she's doing."

"See you then at lunch then?" she asked.

He smiled. "Yeah, sure. Later then, Lacey."

"Bye."

"Hey Kate, how are you doing?" she asked softly, sitting by the edge of her bed.

"Miserable," the blonde whimpered in mister. "I feel like crap, and I've just missed the first class of the summer! God, this sucks."

"Don't worry about it, Katie, Shane Gray was a no show, you didn't miss a thing, besides the room full of girls in heels and makeup." She assured, smirking. "Is there anything I can get for you while I'm here?"

"No," Caitlyn croaked in a frail voice. "Go out there, get a bad sun burn, and get Shane Gray pissed off. Now, shoo!"

"You're a little trooper, aren't you, Kate?" Lacey teased.

"Shoo!" she interjected, laughing.

The brunette raised her hands up in mock surrender and edged out the door. "I'm going, I'm going... You feel better, kay, kid?"

It was still a long time away, lunch, at least, and she found herself roaming around the camp grounds aimlessly, without anyone around. It was a sunny weekday late-morning, and by the looks of it, she was probably going to check one of those things off of Kate's to-do list for her easily; getting a sunburn.

Sighing, she stopped by her cabin and picked up her phone and her sunscreen, and seeing as it was probably early evening in Australia, she took the opportunity to call her dad.

"Hey dad," she greeted.

"Lacey!" he exclaimed on the other end. "So how's camp so far? I'm sure Welcome Jam must have been very good this year."

"Yeah, it was pretty amazing, Welcome Jam," she fibbed, laughing uneasily. "And camp's been... Interesting... Brown wouldn't let me have your cabin this year."

"Ah, that sucks," he sighed eccentrically into his mouth piece.

"Yeah, I know..." his disappointment was contagious.

Lacey made her way down to the lake, she was certain she can sit under a tree or something to avoid a bad sunburn.

"I got mom's cabin though," she decided that was a consolation.

"That's not so bad, Sweetie," he assured. "Pretty good view from there, you know."

"Oh, wouldn't you know, huh, dad?" she remarked sarcastically. "Yeah, but some cocky pop star who's the guest instructor got your cabin, which sucks."

"Speaking of instructors, shouldn't you be in class right now, pumpkin?" he asked in a fatherly tone.

"Said guest instructor went AWOL," she scoffed, kicking a rock that was on her path.


	13. Act Thirteen: Priorities

* * *

**Act Thirteen: Priorities**

**Author's Note:** Hey guys. (: Well, uh, this may be the last chapter for a while now, because I wrote this back... Iuno, a couple of weeks ago, and I haven't really picked it up since then. D: It's not exactly on a full hiatus, more like a third of a hiatus, and it's not that I've grown entirely bored of it, but I've been picking up on some of the other stuff that I'm writing, which I'm more excited for. Priorities, my lovely readers. ;)

So, this might be goodbye for a while now, but I'll try to come back to this as soon as I can, when I've hit a rut with the other things I'm working on.

But, in the mean time, I'd more than encourage you to check out some of my other stuff, and I know the entire Naruto thing probably throws most of you guys off a lot, but in no actual way are my written things over there really related to the canon-story. They're pretty good, some of them actually are better than this, so scroll up and click on my pen name. That would mean a lot to me, because reviews make me happy, and no reviews make me feel incompetent as a writer, which is like a metaphorical slap to the face, and in all honesty, those are the ones that hurt the most. ):

Sooooo... Go over there and give them a chance, and I'll be back soon, promise. :D

I love and adore you all!

Cheers.

* * *

She found that she wasn't the only one who was looking forward to spending the morning by the shore.

She could see, in the distance, a person who looked like a particular jackass, sitting by the docks, causing her to groan.

His dark chocolate hair was tousled a bit, and his hazel eyes were fixated on the waters as he sat so still that Lacey wondered if the boy had fallen asleep right then and there, what she expected people to do when they went fishing.

"Dad, I got to go, I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

She heard a chuckle. "Sure, Lace. Love you."

"Love you, too."

She slipped the phone into her pocket, and made her way down the uneven hill to the docks.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw him with a fishing rod in his hands, and his bare feet dangling in the chilly, refreshing waters.

"Fishing in the late morning?" she asked, frowning. "A little unconventional, but whatever floats your boat, pop star."

"Trying to see if I can fish out my phone," he grunted, shrugging it off.

She bent down and took a seat next to him on the warn-down piece of wood.

"Any luck?" she inquired.

"Of course not," he frowned inwardly, eyes fixated on the water. "I'm not very good a fisher, you know."

"Don't you have a class you should be teaching, Shane Gray?" she scrutinized.

"Not really on the top of my priority list," he confessed, a smile tugging on the left corner of his lips. "I have much better things to do than teach a bunch of brats how to dance, you see."

"And fishing for electronics is?" she asked, in a cheeky manner.

"Why, yes Madam, it is," he countered sarcastically. "What are you doing out here anyways? Don't you have a class to be in?"

"My instructor when AWOL," she explained, smiling cunningly. "Or, that's what Gavin told me, at least."

Shane frowned. "He never did get me that muffin I was asking for."

She shot him a what-the-hell-is-up-with-you-guys-and-muffins-and-why-would-he-even-get-you-a-muffin look.

"I said please!" he shot back in his own defence impatiently.

"Sometimes please doesn't always cut it," she mused.

"Spare me of philosophy," he groaned flatly.

"But now that you're here, maybe you can start on this "so-called" epic myth," he suggested. "You've caused far too much hype on something like this, and I'm beginning to wonder how good it actually is."

"One condition," she proposed.

"A bit too general," he frowned.

"We stop the prank-pulling for twenty-four hours."

He shot her a why-the-fuck-should-I-trust-you-last-time-we-had-one-of-these-you-screwed-me-over-and-fed-me-to-the-wolves glare.

"I won't screw you over this time," she promised, holding out her pinkie.

He sighed in defeat, hooking his own pinkie with hers. "Fine, deal."

"Alright then," she paused to make herself as comfortable as she could on the uncomfortable plank of wood.

"This all happened around 28 years ago, in like the early 80's, when these two eleven year-old kids first set foot on the grounds of Camp Rock. Of the two, there was on, Ben, who was very loud and cocky about his abilities.

"Ben was a rock star the first day he stepped up onto the stage at Welcome Jam, ripping the guitar like it was nobody's business. He was a little rascal, and a bad boy, with his dark brown, shaggy hair, and his mischievous bright green eyes.

"He had one hell of a set of windpipes, belting it out like the seniors, so it was only natural that the older kids adored him immensely. He was the kid who just demanded attention and respect, a rowdy, rambunctious brat who was just spilling of talent, which was undeniable."

She took a moment to clear her throat.

She stole a glance at Shane Gray, and although he was pretending to be barely paying attention, she could tell that he was relishing every word that came out of her mouth.

Lacey had to admit, she wasn't exactly the best storyteller to grace the world, or the country, or even the camp, but she knew this story better than anyone else at Camp Rock; the other versions floating around, resurfacing every so often were just wrangled and wrenched of its raw, simple fairytale, to a point where it was just ridiculous.

There's no better person to hear the story from than her, seeing as she heard it from the Rock Heroics themselves, both versions, actually. And one from Brown, a very detailed and intricate play-by-play of their last year, the only year that Brown actually witnessed, much to his dismay.

"So, the summer passed like lightning, and before anyone could blink, it was Final Jam. Everyone know that the little runt was going to win it. He left the crowd going nuts after his performance; everyone was just blown away, some even thought they should just end Final Jam right then and there, and give the damned kid the crown and just get it over with.

"But right after him, this little, meek and shy redhead popped up onto the stage, and everyone had no expectations of her at all, but once the music started, and she sang out the first note, the audience went dead silent.

"Here was this little, meek eleven-year-old girl, shy as a kitten, but was belting it out, and working it like she owned the place. Everyone just fell speechless, their jaws dropping in amazement, including Ben's. Anna won that first Final Jam Competition and she was the youngest kid to have ever won it in Camp Rock history. But that was only the start of the legacy."

Both heard the bell ring, marking the end of the first lesson of the summer, and marking the start of the first lunch.

"Ah," she sighed, pulling herself up to stretch her legs out. "I guess we'll have to finish this later."

Shane merely nodded, reeling in his line, and to her utter surprise, she found a piece of an electronic device hanging on the line, dripping of water. He seemed mildly surprised as well.

"Wow," she whistled, biting back a smile.

"I guess I'm a pretty good fisher after all," he let out a cocky-free grin. "See? It's all about priorities, Haybern."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ugh. I always seem to forget this part because I've been being a lazy arse, but I wanted to thank all of my readers, especially the wonderful ones that take time out of their productive lives drop me thougtful comments (hint hint; that's right; you will be regarded as wonderful if you leave me a comment.). As I said, I'm not sure when it was the last time that I've done the entire shout-out/replying thing, but I'm doing it now. Because you guys are just too cool. ;)

IdiotSavant8009: (Yes, I needed to copy and paste your pen name, because I am certain I would have gotten it wrong) First off, thank you so much for all of your kind and thoughtful comments; I really appreciate them, and they made me smile. (: Just like that. As in the smilie face. Yep. An admittance to being obsession over my fic here is definitely the highest praise I probably ever gotten, so I really hope you liked this chapter. :D I hope I've updated quick enough for you!

arisa0: I'm glad you like it, and I hope you like this chapter too! (:


	14. Act Fourteen: Gunpoint

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* * *

**

Act Fourteen: Gunpoint

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. At all. It's a terribly sad story, actually..._

**Author's Note:** Hey guys. (: You're all probably thinking "Woah, that was the fastest one third hiatus I've ever seen!", and I agree with you. But, since school's starting, and all that jazz, I won't get the chance to post up new stuff as often I used to. And, the chapters might be kind of wonky, because I don't have an exact "time-line, master plan" thing, and I type out whatever I can, because I'm trying to save trees, and am far too lazy to do rough drafts.

So, leave me some reviews, or else the next time I update, it might be in like... 2 months. Or more. :P

Cheers,

- Footsie.

* * *

She returned it with an amiable smile of her own, forgetting that this had been the same Shane Gray that she loved to hate.

For that moment, he was just another boy, and she was just another girl, kind of just... making their way through the endlessly winding roads of life.

He wasn't the platinum album award winning cover boy with the cockiness, overbearing character, and the attitude to match, right then, and she wasn't the outspoken girl who would forever live in the shadows of her parents that no one ever knew about. They were just... normal; acting like normal teens they were supposed to be, laughing at silly little things that weren't all that humorous.

Lacey began to wonder if she had misjudged him.

Sure, he was a douche bag inside and out, but right then, it felt like it might have just simply been a case of an over inflation of the ego. It's hard to keep yourself grounded, humble, when people are literally hand feeding you praise and giving you and especially good reason to believe that you are, indeed, the greatest human to have ever walked on the planet since Jesus.

Although camp rock had been a place where they encouraged and taught of the virtue of being humble, and respecting your fans, because they're truly all you have, once you leave the grounds, things that you learned at camp seem get be lost in translation.

Sometimes, they simply don't apply to real life, where they'd praise a one-legged rabbit like mad just because it still has the will power to hop on one foot. Praise can be so easily received, but respect is a different matter.

Maybe Shane Gray just lost his way- lost _himself_, through all the fame and fortune, and he just needed to remember that making music isn't about the money; it's about sharing something that you love with the rest of the world. Perhaps coming back to Camp Rock was the best thing for him.

The lunch bell interrupted their tranquil quiet, shrilling so loud that it could be heard on the other side of the neighbouring island.

Lacey sighed as she got up and stretched her stiff arms and legs, as Shane continued to stare into the endless lake of water.

"Coming for lunch?" she asked, slightly offering. "I heard there'll be muffins."

He let out a stiff laugh. "Nah, I'll pass. We both know that Brown's favourite meal of the day is lunch, and I don't think running into him will be the best idea I've ever made in my life. I want to see how long I can keep myself away from the punishment, and it would be stupid to put myself into a situation where Brown can easily find me."

"A full-blown game of hide and seek?" she questioned patronizingly. "Childish much? You and Brown are so obviously related that I could just die of laughter."

"Clearly you haven't played a full-out game of hide and seek with the entire Camp Rock perimeter as the playing field with Shane Gray," he smirked.

"Whatev's," she laughed. "I see you around, then, and keep my updated on how your little game goes,"

"Later, and will do."

Lacey met up with Tiffany, Gavin and Meaghan in the mess hall, with Caitlyn still out with a fever, and Shane Gray going completely AWOL.

Apparently, he hadn't been seen by anyone, including the rampage of the Shane Gray fan girls since 10 AM, although he had been seen once by Gavin at 10:03 AM, and by Lacey at 11:24 AM.

"Do you think we should start making missing posters?" Tiffany asked, clearly not knowing that Lacey had seen him exactly five minutes ago, looking alive, and well, and not in the some truck of a foreign vehicle tied up with a mass or ropes, held at gunpoint.

"Now where would we find photo references of Shane Gray at such short notice?" Lacey asked cunningly. "As we all know, no one at this table has exceptionally good art skills, and if Shane Gray found badly drawn cartoons of him pinned up across Camp grounds, I think he might go on a rampant massacre spree in order to find who tarnished his good looks with these bad stick figure drawings."

Tiffany and Meaghan exchanged looks, before promptly dropping a couple dozen magazines on the dining table, most of which had Mr. Bad Boy, Shane Gray as their cover. Lacey and Gavin exchanged looks, and shook their head in shame.

"And here I was, getting my hopes up and all about having to die in a Pop Star's psychotic hands over a stick figure drawing," Gavin said sarcastically.

"If there are any posters that are going up, they should be 'Wanted: Dead or Alive' as far as I am concerned." A voice behind them said stiffly.

Tiffany and Gavin were already facing the tall man, but Meaghan and Lacey were forced to turn around to meet a pissed off Camp Director by the name of Brown.

"Hey Brown," the kids greeted jovially, as Meaghan and Tiffany hastily stuffed the stacks of magazines into their bags.

"Have any of you lot seen my lovely nephew by any chance?" he asked. "I've got a bit of bone to pick with him."

"Last time I saw him, he had intentions of challenging you to a full-out game of hide-and-seek," Lacey told him smugly.

"If you see him later, Lace, tell him that I openly accept the challenge," he said in all seriousness. "And that once I find him, he's a dead man walking."

"Will do," she sent him a mock two-finger salute. "Later Brownie."

"Bye kids."

Classes resumed as they normally did, without any signs of one Shane Gray showing up to grace the campers with the brilliance of his presence for the rest of the afternoon.

The day consisted of four classes, alternating between day one and day two, with eight classes in total: Vocal Training, Musical Theory, Dance, Instrumental Training, Studio Rehearsal, Character Training/Stage Presence and an elective of personal choice.

With her voice damaged, she had no need to take Vocal Training or Musical Theory, and having spoken over about the issue with Brown two years before, she could take that time and do as she wished as long as she was still in Camp Rock grounds.

In the middle of camp last year, Brown started to help her work on getting back her voice, and although it was much better than it had been post-laryngitis, the voice she was developing didn't feel like it was hers.

It wasn't even close to the calibre of her prior voice; it was weak, feeble, and just didn't hold character.

That's why she was glad that those lessons were only with Brown, prior to supper, because food would take some of the disappointment off.

But any dreams of pursuing a career in singing died during that first summer of vocal recuperation.

Brown tried to comfort her, saying that she still had a strong, exceptional voice; but she knew that exceptional wasn't good enough.

So singing became something recreational that she kept to herself, ashamed and disappointed with what she was left with, having tasted what it had been like to have a superior singing voice that left people's minds blown away.

It, quite honestly, sucked. She never sang to an audience who wasn't Brown, not even to her parents, despite all their efforts in supporting her. It wasn't the same anymore.

This year, both of the two classes completely irrelevant to her had been the last class of each day, which was something she was glad for, because it left her time to explore the outer edges of the campgrounds.

That was what she had done since her voice injury, with her spare time, meander the grounds and find something that kids didn't have time to do, because for them, it was all about the music. It was a vast land of great character, and she was determined to know every crack and grain of sand in the place.

So during the last class, she decided to explore the north part of the grounds, despite the fact that the tree branches were too low, and kept on whacking her in the face, and in the arm, and legs. Lacey continued anyway, until something grabbed her foot and sent her flying until she found herself eating dirt on the ground.

"What the hell Gray?" she demanded. "What gives?"

Shane wasn't wearing the trademark smirk of his, and apologized for making her eat dirt, and that he hadn't meant to surprise her.

"Lacey, I'm hungry," he declared desperately.

"Then go get food," she told him curtly.

"I can't go into the mess hall," he argued. "Brown will be there, he knows I can't go without food for longer than two hours, please, Haybern? Come on, we're on relatively neutral terms now; you can't watch someone who you're on relatively neutral terms with to die from starvation. That's inhumane."

"Painting a parrot's claws with neon green nail polish is inhumane, clubbing baby seals is inhumane, skinning a rabbit alive and deep frying it is inhumane," she listed, "not getting food for a Pop Star who hasn't eaten for two hours _isn't_ inhumane."

"Come on, I'm begging you," he pleaded.

She hesitated for a second, but sighed as she completely caved in.

"You owe me," she threatened.

"Thank you," he said genuinely.

Lacey glared at him, as she brushed off the dirt that covered half her body, as he promised he'd never do that to her ever again, offering to help her up.

She declined. "You've done enough damage, Shane."

He apologized again.

"I'll see you in five," she sighed.

* * *


End file.
